Life is a Poem
by Glorificate
Summary: These are various poems I've written. Let me know what you think.
1. The Best Part Of 'Believe' Is The 'Lie'

**This is a poem inspired by a story of the same name by MerciaLachesis so check that out.**

They tell me that the world's just so.

The best part of 'believe' is the 'lie'.

Allegedly full of pain and sorrow.

They tell me that the world's just so.

We're going to fix the status-quo,

but what happens if I don't comply?

They tell me that the world's just so.

The best part of 'believe' is the lie.

"You must believe us!" they implore.

The best part of 'believe' is the 'lie'.

"Together we can forge the cure!"

"You must believe us!" they implore.

"There's so much life, we must explore!"

but what exactly do they imply?

"You must believe us!" they implore.

The best part of 'believe' is the 'lie'.

Treacherous murderers out to conquer.

The best part of 'believe' is the 'lie'.

"Come and join us little daughter."

Treacherous murderers out to conquer.

They've been molding me since my capture,

but in me they'll find no ally.

Treacherous murderers out to conquer.

The best part of 'believe' is the 'lie'.

They can whine and threaten all they like,

the best part of 'believe' is the 'lie'.

They rear their ugly head to strike.

They can whine and threaten all they like,

but in me, they've created a shrike,

and I'll be there to watch them die.

They can whine and threaten all they like.

the best part of 'believe' is the 'lie'.

 **Please review! And send me ideas you might like to see turned into a poem, or an example of your own poetry.**


	2. I Go To Sleep Every Night

I go to sleep every night,

I should be good at it by now.

The moon glows lily-white,

I go to sleep every night.

Seeking out dreamer's delight,

It eludes me, don't know how.

I go to sleep every night,

I should be good at it by now.


	3. Even As My Fingers Bleed

Even as my fingers bleed,

I cling to the thorns that pierce me.

I follow a poisoned lead,

Even as my fingers bleed.

They say the word, I do the deed

In no hurry to be free.

Even as my fingers bleed,

I cling to the thorns that pierce me.


	4. Reflection

**This was written in honor of my Dad, who I dearly love and recently celebrated his 49th birthday. Love You Daddy!**

* * *

Month after month, year after year,

Another chapter of life gone by.

We wonder how we've gotten here.

Month after month, year after year,

We count minutes as they disappear.

Time flies in the blink of an eye,

Month after month, year after year.

Another chapter of life gone by.


	5. Words Can Be Twisted

Words can be twisted,

Belief is a lie.

Torn hearts aren't lifted,

Words can be twisted.

Melodies drifted,

Teaching dreams to fly.

Words can be twisted.

Belief is a lie.


	6. Even The Thorns Are Roses

Even the thorns are roses,

A blessing in disguise.

Hidden by fronts and poses,

Even the thorns are roses.

A closer look exposes

The illusions and the lies.

Even the thorns are roses,

A blessing in disguise.


	7. Northern Downpour

**N** othing breaks the cage in which,

 **O** ne holds oneself captive.

 **R** eflection is all that's left

 **T** o comfort the weary prisoner.

 **H** ope shows in the dark, an

 **E** ffulgence in a tired world.

 **R** eality twists into

 **N** ightmares and daydreams.

 **D** elusions fabricate

 **O** ne's only comfort.

 **W** hether fact or fantasy,

 **N** othing seems quite as real.

 **P** urposed for destruction,

 **O** nly few survive

 **U** nder the _northern downpour_ when

 **R** eality and vision collide.


	8. Happy Thanksgiving!

**I understand that not everyone celebrates Thanksgiving, but as I am American, this is a holiday for me and I wrote this poem in honor of that.**

* * *

Our gra **t** itude praises the Lord,

It is the song of the **h** eart.

When we r **a** ise

Our ha **n** ds to

The **K** ing and

Wor **s** hip him for his

Many blessin **g** s,

 **I** t brings glory to his name.

With his **v** ictorious

R **i** ght hand he

Exte **n** ds his mercy

And **g** race in return for our

 **Thanksgiving**


	9. I Knew Who I Was This Morning

Supposed to be an average day.

One encounter, that's gone away.

Memories suddenly haunting.

I knew who I was this morning.

Fragile mentality shatters,

My entire life hangs in tatters.

These visions have my head rushing.

I knew who I was this morning.

Carefully constructed world falls,

As ancient resounding voice calls.

A broken truth starts rebuilding.

I knew who I was this morning.

Deny the undeniable,

Return to safety's soothing lull.

Close my mind to stop the dreaming.

I knew who I was this morning.


	10. Iron's Only Destroyed By It's Rust

Iron's only destroyed by its rust.

Dissention destroys, beginning the end.

Teams fall apart unless built on trust.

If one lets desire crumble to dust,

One's submitted to the doubts that fears send.

Iron's only destroyed by its rust.

Teams may be able to dodge a spear's thrust,

But ill-built foundations cannot mend.

Teams fall apart unless built on trust.

Surviving wars, an age old iron bust,

Unyielding to man, to rust, starts to bend.

Iron's only destroyed by its rust.

Humans are iron, if we're being honest,

If we tear us down, we can't transcend.

Teams fall apart unless built on trust.

Don't be something that falls in a gust.

Rather, be something they can't comprehend.

Iron's only destroyed by its rust.

Teams fall apart, unless built on trust.


	11. All That Is Gold Does Not Glitter

It may not be a pleasant sight,

But that don't make abuse alright.

So, it don't set hearts a flutter,

All that is gold does not glitter.

She hides herself to pass unseen,

By "goddesses" who always preen,

Ignoring the words aimed at her.

All that is gold does not glitter.

He feels their stares, scorching his neck,

Wishing they knew of his neglect.

Looks aside, he's much to offer.

All that is gold does not glitter.

So hold your judgement till you know

A person and can see their glow.

Stay open minded, not bitter.

All that is gold does not glitter.


	12. Fractured Figure Of A Porcelain Doll

False image reflected in a silver glass,

Insecurity concealed with a mock cure.

Pre-adulterated beauty seems so crass,

Paints and powder create alleged allure.

Perplexed by how she got caught in this morass,

A young girl struggles, trying to feel secure.

Fragile perfection that shatters in a fall,

She's a fractured figure of a porcelain doll.


	13. Concerning Pigs

_**Concerning Pigs: The Ramblings Of Mental Sisters**_

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

 **This is a double whatsit poem that I couldn't format correctly because of fanfiction. It is like a conversation between my sisters in this case.** Regular is my youngest sister **,** _italics is my other sister_ **, and bold is both of them together. This isn't to be taken seriously, this is merely my recording something that needed to be remembered. It also serves as something of a break from some of my heavier content.**

* * *

The pig gives me life,

I wanna be a pig.

 _The pig is Captain America_

 **Cause Captain America is a unicorn.**

It should have been Ironman.

The pig needs to stop.

Let me be a pig.

Why did people vote for the pig.

 _Because the pig is a pig._

 _The pig looks so cool._

 **I vote for the pig.**

 _Now we have two pigs._

What's the pig?

 **I have no idea.**

Toughbelly. I love it.

 _That's the pig._

The pig looks so cute though!

It's like a cowboy!

 _What?_

 **The Pig?**

 _Vote for that pig_

 _They look sweet._

I like the other pig.

I wanna vote for the other pig.

 _What about the pig with the elf hat?_

Oh the pig looks so cute!

 **Oh the pig though!**

The pig is cute but…

The PIG!

 _The pigs are gonna win though._

 _We all know this._

 **OH THE PIGS ARE CUTE!**

See that pig is itself

It understands.

 **The pigs won!**

 **We won with the pigs!**

We are pigs.

We are champions pi-

 _THE PIG WON FIRST!_

 **That pig though.**

HEEHEEHEE

It's so cute

 _It's ears are like ee_

And it's honker is like honk

 _It's ears are like ee_

Pig has a mohawk!

 _Pig has a balloon._

 _Pigs a child._

Pigs are always children.

 _And the pigs are always there_

 **That pig though**

It has butterfly wings

 _The pig got all the votes_

 **The pig left!**

THE PIGS CAN'T LEAVE!


	14. Home's Where The Heart Is

Home's where the heart is, but where is my heart?

It's a struggle I think, one I don't want.

Every thought seems to tear me apart,

It gets harder to think with ev'ry taunt.

My indecision I want to admit.

How can I deal with my problems alone?

As it now stands I'm this far from a fit.

What family, what love, can I call my own?

If I knew, would home be so hard to find?

Or could I discover where I belong?

No I can't. Not when I'm lost in my mind,

Confused by the voices, each clear and strong.

Loneliness is something I can't outsmart.

Home's where the heart is, but where is my heart?


	15. Broken Heart Cased In Bullet Proof Glass

You set the bait, cast the line, and reel me in.

Oh innocent heart, naive to the danger.

How you fooled me with all the tales you'd spin.

Those hours and minutes but a love-sick blur.

Why didn't I feel the barbs in my skin.

Couldn't see the arrows hidden by glamor.

But I've guarded my heart, we're at an impasse.

It's a broken heart cased in bullet proof glass.


	16. The Monsters Turn Out To Be Just Trees

Imagination can be a dangerous thing.

My mind overwhelmed by voices bickering.

My worst enemy is inside my head,

I don't know if I'm really alive or dead.

A simple shadow can make me freeze,

But the monsters turn out to be just trees.

.

One side of me is strong, a powerful queen,

Another is a girl, afraid of being seen.

I'm terrifying, overlooking the gloom,

But at the same time a child, hiding in her room.

Both sides trying to dodge the harpies,

The monsters turn out to be just trees.

.

Timid me is shy, timid me is sick.

Timid me can do nothing but panic.

I hide from the world, just to be safe

It's for the best as I'm merely a waif.

Their words do nothing to answer my queries,

After all, the monsters turn out to be just trees.

.

The blood boils in my veins, edging me on,

And all of the sudden the shy me is gone.

Blood lust causes painful mistakes,

But I can't control the moves I make.

Everyone kneels on bended knee.

I think the real monster here is me.


	17. The Ice Queen

In icy facade, an e'er shifting soul,

Rose from the ashes of tragedies plight.

Years of perfection have taken their toll,

A little girl left without strength to fight.

Every night sees tears in the darkness,

But daylight finds her hardened front in place.

One might think, to be aloof is painless,

Nay she can barely keep pain from her face.

Everyone sees a cold, hard, perfect girl,

They never think to look behind the mask.

She tries to ignore the glad as they twirl,

If one sees her crumble, they don't dare ask.

Deep in her eyes lurks a well hidden sheen.

Emotional shield covers, the Ice Queen.


	18. Ten Steps To Freedom, Two Steps To Home

**Ten Steps To Freedom, Two Steps To Home (Or Is It Hell?)**

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

 **Also based on a story by MerciaLachesis title belongs to her, all the rest is mine.**

* * *

It's ten steps to freedom, two steps to home,

(or is it hell?) Could I possibly know?

This place that's supposed to protect me. This

school where I've spent most of my life. I can't

remember a life outside of these walls.

Did anything else even exist? Have

I always been this weapon they made? "To

make the world better" they said, But those who

have raised me all seem so tense, devoid of

any real joy, while those that I kill

seem perfectly at ease and relaxed. Which

cause is truly righteous, the one I've been

taught, or the one I tear down? Which is the

one that truly betters the world. I have

a chance to leave it all now. Ten steps to

freedom, two steps to home. (or is it hell?)

 **This is another poem based on a story by MerciaLachesis of the same name. If you are in the Harry Potter or Avengers fandom, I recommend reading it. You should be able to draw some parallels.**


	19. Curse Of The Wayward Son

He only knows what he's been taught.

Reality's an afterthought.

He sleeps, eats, breathes, the lies they've spun

It's the curse of the wayward son.

.

His first ten years do not exist.

He has no clue he should resist.

Living the life that's been chosen,

It's the curse of the wayward son.

.

He knows nothing of his mother,

Only of his tyrant father

And twisted truths of things he's done.

It's the curse of the wayward son.

.

Will he realize he's in the wrong?

Or remember his cradlesong?

Unknown rights have been downtrodden.

It's the curse of the wayward son.


	20. The Writer

**This is a poem I wrote for my english class after the style of Geoffrey Chaucer's The Canterbury Tales. The goal was to describe a person in the room the way Chaucer introduced his characters in the prologue. Enjoy.**

* * *

Along with them was a bright young writer.

She covered dark themes, but also lighter.

Every story was deep and heartfelt,

Her aim is to make the hardest heart melt.

She felt very much for friends and family.

Though she might not show, she loved them deeply.

She has deep passion for all living things,

And the song in her heart, she has to sing.

Her short blonde hair bounced, curtaining her face,

And her spirit e'er glows with renewed graced.

The characters she writes are deep and thought through,

She does what she can to make them seem true.

Deep green-gold eyes gleam behind thin gold frames,

Focusing on stories, as is her game.

She draws out the life her stories take on,

They walk the same world until they are gone.


	21. The Fabric Of The Peaceful

**This was inspired by a line in the song "Sorrow" by the band Flyleaf. Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Birds sing sweetly while the bells chime,

One's heartbeat gives rhythm and rhyme.

World thick with life, so colorful,

It's the fabric of the Peaceful.

.

Children running, so innocent,

Always delighted, never spent.

Lives so pure, so untouchable,

They're the fabric of the Peaceful.

.

The calm, perforated by strife.

War results in the loss of life.

The spilling of blood takes it's toll;

Tears the fabric of the Peaceful.

.

Count your blessings everyday,

It makes the monsters go away.

Rebuild that which was beautiful,

Mend the fabric of the Peaceful.


	22. This Pressing Darkness

**This poem is not by me, but rather, my sister. She wrote it for her creative writing class and I begged her for permission to post it which she gave me. Let me know what you think.**

This Pressing Darkness

There's a darkness pressing against his soul,

A tumor growing from within.

The creeping shadows are taking their toll,

Red lines spread across his skin;

Then a single candle lights itself

For once hope spreads throughout the air,

But the black refuses to dispel

Darkness presses it to despair.

The black blocks out all light,

All peace and joy are hidden.

Murkiness clouds the sight

Terror and dread bloom unbidden.

The black tendrils strengthen their hold,

Thick chains pull him deeper into their grasp;

As he gets weaker they grow bold,

Darkness presses down, he gives in at last.

He can't fight any longer,

The pain is much too strong.

At last he has been conquered

He knew it all along.

The steady drum no longer sounds,

The wind no longer will blow;

As echoes of his pain resound,

The pressing darkness is known.


	23. A Soldier's Farewell

A call has been sounded to take up arms

And so, in response, I bid you farewell

Leaving to guard others against all harms.

Father take pride in me: you raised me well

I'll mind your teachings, not charge in headlong,

But strive for victory where others fell.

Mother don't worry, it won't be for long,

I'll make sure to write you while we're apart.

I'll be back shortly, but till then be strong.

Darling don't weep, for I'm playing my part.

It pains me to leave you in such sorrow

But always remember, you're in my heart.

The battle is coming, blood will soon flow,

Enemies come under cover of night.

Raise the banner, it's time to face the foe.

Should the worst happen, should I die tonight,

Know that I did not go down without a fight.


	24. Honey, You Should See Me In A Crown

You flatter me saying I light up the place.

I'm secure in myself, but hearing it's nice.

There is incredible peace in your embrace

I believe we find a mutual paradise.

You inquire about my "effulgent grace",

I'm royalty, a princess to be precise.

You say I lift you up when you're feeling down.

Oh well, Honey, you should see me in a crown.


	25. Lie That Is Halfway Mine

It's a pain to hide,

This lie that is halfway mine.

Torture multiplied.

But I love the lie.

The lie that is halfway mine.

I have to comply.

Half-lie is half truth;

This lie that is halfway mine

Is the spoils of youth.

Bound by lies we share,

The lie that is halfway mine.

Brings life and despair.


	26. Victim Of A Hurtful Healer

Something in you breaks,

And in rage you turn away.

Left us both in pain.

.

Cure the fire in your bone.

Do not make me cry alone.


	27. It's Only Forever, Not Long At All

Stuck,

Helpless

To escape

Fate's endless game.

It's only forever, not long at all.

Forced,

To be

A puppet

Eternally.

It's only forever, not long at all.

Caught.

Chanting

My age old

Ardent mantra.

It's only forever, not long at all.


	28. But If You Close Your Eyes

But if you close your eyes,

Gaze at the immortal moon,

Stare through the disguise.

Sightless child personifies,

Naive little girl, in her cocoon,

But if you close your eyes.

Empty milk white orbs bely,

The knowledge learned in an afternoon,

Stare through the disguise.

Her joy glows like a sunrise,

A sight others can't commune,

But if you close your eyes.

The gift of vision comes as a surprise,

But perfect life is over to soon.

Stare through the disguise.

Perfection's destruction horrifies,

Those touched by the little moon.

But if you close your eyes,

Stare through the disguise.


	29. Doesn't Mean I Wasn't Brave

Doesn't mean I wasn't brave.

I didn't slay the giant.

Still I take the gift they gave,

And stand your scorn with patience.

I didn't slay the giant.

I understand your anger,

And stand your scorn with patience,

Though hate is not the answer.

I understand your anger.

I couldn't save your loved ones,

Though hate is not the answer.

They, not I, fought the legions.

I couldn't save your loved ones,

Still I take the gift they gave.

They, not I, fought the legions.

Doesn't mean I wasn't brave.

 **AN...**

 **This one, I feel is from the perspective of a military doctor, confronted by the families of the soldiers they couldn't save.**


	30. Broken And Breaking Some More

Young Girl,

Weeping softly,

Crying herself to sleep.

All broken and breaking some more.

She sobs.

Young boy,

Nervous and scared,

Silent and insecure.

All broken and breaking some more.

He stares.

Young man,

Trying so hard,

To find a cure to live.

All broken and breaking some more.

He fights.

Young wife,

Always hiding

The abuse she suffers.

All broken and breaking some more.

She hides.

Eyes watch.

Pondering this.

Seeing all their struggles.

All broken and breaking some more.

She loves.


	31. Nature's Dangerous Dance

**This is another of my sister's poems written for the same project. The topic is weather which is something I personally would struggle writing a poem about, but she surprised me. See for yourelf.**

Nature's Dangerous Dance

It only takes one spark that lights

And then the flames will grow;

'Till a wild blaze burns so bright

Everything is aglow.

Up the tree white tongues creep,

Leaving behind a trail of ash.

From tree to tree it leaps

It becomes a dangerous dance.

A twister forms across the plains,

Fueled by powerful winds

And birthed by a storms mighty rain;

Whirls about undisciplined.

With a crashing roar it calls,

Sweeping house up and cars away,

Tearing apart every wall

In a dangerous dance it sways.

The awesome power rumbles through the land,

As even mountains shake,

A mystery we cannot understand,

Through the rolling earth's quake.

It knocks the hills to their knees,

Sending boulders flying past.

Ripping trees up is a breeze,

This dangerous dance is fast.

The ocean hears and responds in full

An enormous wave is then sent forth,

In it comes with the bright moon's pull,

Crashing upon all there is of worth.

Utter destruction that wave does incite,

With its violent swirls of water;

Unmindful of its poor victim's plight,

It dances through the slaughter.

As bloody and as brutal,

These shocking displays may seem

Where resistance is futile,

And the storms still reign supreme;

There is an actual goal,

Through its deadly advance

But it is still beautiful,

Nature's dangerous dance.


	32. Almost, But Not Yet Insane

Everything starts, and yet everything stops.

My heart beats faster and I catch my breath.

The world spins like a carousel, or top.

Both peak of my life, and seconds from death.

Peace and anxiety, they are the same.

Attack and defend, no difference to me.

All is lost, but there's nothing to reclaim.

I stay and fight the same moment I flee.

Time flows faster but I don't move at all.

I try in vain to ignore all the stares.

I am soaring swiftly, but crash and fall.

Is it a dream or the stuff of nightmares?

It's both crazy and terribly mundane,

Driving me almost, but not yet insane.


	33. The Life Of A Butterfly

The life of a butterfly is a short lived gift.

What goes through it's mind as it flutters and flits?

The next bright flower, the next quick meal.

Everything always so simple, so real.

Watch for dangers but don't hide away,

Keep going on, wary, but brave.

Everything seems so simple and sweet.

Watching the butterflies, their world is complete.

They don't worry about trivial things,

Not the rain, nor the sun, nor the wind in it's breezing.

They don't worry about all that goes wrong,

Or even the dangers of the birds in their song.

If only we were more like the butterflies.

Unconcerned with problems that might arise.

Life would be simpler, if we lived in the now,

Rather than yesterday, or maybe tomorrow.

Things would be easier, for you and I,

If we lived the life of a butterfly.


	34. Through The Glass And Madness

The laughter in slaughter disrupts quiet sleep,

overtaken by disquieting silence.

But the trust no one wants we've been forced to keep,

and the pain known by none calls eerie consequence.

The twilight is bruised, flaws hidden in the deep.

We do all we can, in vain seeking penance.

Spurred by insanity, we fly from the thief,

through the glass and madness, leaving only grief.


	35. Bend My Back Beneath The Sun

Bend my back beneath the sun.

Each fight hard-fought, each fight hard-won.

Cover my ears and stare at the sky,

Move with time as it goes by.

Contemplate the lies we've spun

To trick us so we think it's fun,

And hide regrets of things we've done.

People we claim to unify,

Beneath the sun.

We succeed when we take action,

And fail should we give up and run.

We strain and fight and heave and sigh,

Trying in vain, trying to fly.

Age old faults lay unforgiven,

Beneath the sun.


	36. The Battle Of Blue And Grey

**This is one of my older poems. I wrote it in eighth grade for my US History class. If you can't tell, or never learned about this in detail or at all, it describes America's Civil War which lasted from 1861-1865.**

The South seceded, America was wounded, on that fateful day.

Twas only the beginning of the battle of blue and grey.

The North was frayed, Fort Sumter betrayed,

the U.S. parted,, Bull Run started the battle of blue and grey.

.

"Fight for freedom and unity!" was the North's rally cry.

The South only wished for peace so they could live their lives.

Bayonets, cannonballs, fields drenched in blood,

and strewn across the ground, were the bodies of the dead.

.

By 1865, most all slaves were free,

and the body of our president stretched from sea to sea.

We'd have to do the clean-up without our beloved Abe,

and so ended the war, the battle of blue and grey.


	37. Clouds Or No, The Sun Shines Still

The world is a dreary place.

Problems come up, plans fall through.

Plague and pestilence runs wild.

Despite that we still have hope.

Through everything, love proves true.

Clouds or no, the sun shines still.

Facing danger, we stand still.

We're resolute in our place.

The job is hard, that is true,

With obstacles to push through.

We rely on trust and hope

To keep us from going wild.

There are hardships in the wild.

Clouds or no, the sun shines still.

Through it all it's hard to hope,

For our plans to fall in place.

We fight, we fail, yes it's true,

So much that we can't see through.

Watch as Trouble runs us through.

Chaos makes the world run wild.

We all know that it is true.

It's the reason we stand, still.

Caught in the thought of that place,

Where we had a breath of hope.

Where do demons hide our hope?

The one thing that helps us through.

Why does it feel like our place,

To struggle so in the wild?

Clouds or no, the sun shines still

Might not seem it, but it's true.

For so it has to be true

And we cannot give up hope.

We keep our heads up high still

Ignoring pain that tears through.

Life is chaos, life is wild

Forcing us to carve our place.

Sun shines still, we know it's true.

There is hope found in the wild.

Through and through, all falls in place.


	38. Death's Messanger

**A bit of background...**

 **This is loosely based on Harry Potter following the idea of: What if Death got fed up with Voldemort's horcruxes and all the work he was creating and sent a dead assassin who needed to make up for the lives they'd taken to go try to kill him. The assassin was thrown into Voldemort's clutches and tortured until October 31, 1981. They couldn't die until Voldemort was dead and the instant he died they dropped dead themselves.**

Death has always been close, seldom far from me.

Eternal shadow, the closest thing to friend.

But friend in anger becomes an enemy,

Irate over lives brought to premature end.

Charged to slay one who seeks immortality,

And avenge the hundreds none could defend.

The enemies cry out when the streets run red,

When my heart stops beating and I fall down dead.

.

Two-thousand-six-hundred-seventy-six days.

Days of death, days of torture, days of pain.

In agony I've watched with a demon's gaze,

As laughing, they desecrate the people they've slain.

Enemies will fall, none will escape the blaze.

I will see them burn, their blood falling like rain.

When my heart stops beating and I fall down dead,

When the blood of martyrs turn the streets red.

.

Seven years of pain, ten years of death-like sleep.

Paralyzed for sake of hundred threads I've cute.

This burden of bloodshed I've no choice but to keep,

Once unaffected, it now weighs in my gut.

It will only cease once I am buried deep,

Take my place in Death's embrace, no matter what.

My hands will be clean, no longer dripping red,

When my heart stops beating and I fall down dead.

.

Spirit of Vengeance, I'll take him to our grave.

Tyrant who authorized deaths of a thousand,

You'll be torn from your throne by those you enslave.

Your reign will crumble to dust, scattered with sand.

I will tear you down and save who I might save.

I leave a multitude now ready to stand,

When my heart stops beating and I fall down dead,

With the blood of a madman over my head.


	39. Master Of Stars

The stars above lie at my feet,

And I wonder what that makes me.

With a few words I create worlds,

Each shining stars, each glimmering pearls.

Creatures curse my name, in fervent hate,

I cause their problems, to them, I'm fate.

But no one knows them better than I,

The day they're born to the day they die.

There's nothing about them I don't know.

Creations of mine, to me, exposed.

The stars above lie at my feet.

A writer. That's what this makes me.


	40. To Blind To Find Our Way

Humanity is blind and the end is near.

Drawing close while we're lost in our revelry.

Approaching silently while we stop our ears,

With fruitless arguments and false chivalry.

Mocking the warning we pretend not to hear,

Sacrificing our last chance at clemency.

Helpless we struggle, to blind to find our way,

As light and sun sets on the final day.


	41. Morbid Hunger In Cold Black Eyes

Everyone falls in Death's embrace.

Either in fear, or face to face.

Angered and hardened 'neath the lies.

Morbid hunger in cold, black, eyes.

Starving people have started wars,

Found a cannon, blown down doors.

Killing those who ignored their cries.

Morbid hunger in cold, black eyes.

Fields of blood, bodies blown to bits.

Carnage caused by ill-advised fits.

Swiftly the arrow of death flies.

Morbid hunger in cold, black eyes.

Death stares with calculated gaze,

As mortals fight, destroy, and raze.

Needless violence, without disguise.

Morbid hunger in cold, black eyes.


	42. No Flower To Be Found

There is no flower to be found,

The flora is shriveled and black.

The water has turned to poison,

It's dead hidden in the brack.

I watch the dull red sun implode.

I watch as the heavens die.

The air around me is sour,

Somehow I'm still breathing but why?

The Apocalypse has happened,

Karma's circle has come round.

The Earth has seen it's final days,

There is no flower to be found.


	43. Ghosts

In worn finery they wait with baited breath,

Consoled by imagined luxury.

Moving, breathing, talking betwixt themselves,

But dead, each and every one of them.

Sorrowing mothers and their blooming daughters,

Fathers and sons, all of great refine.

All of them dead, with nothing left but their ghosts.

Pale memories, awaiting their fate.

Come dawn tomorrow, their blood will soak the streets.

Come dawn tomorrow, Death will collect.

Pale faces are drawn tight in fear of fate.

All of them ghosts, and all of them dead.


	44. Privy To The Dreams Of Billions

One privy to the dreams of billions,

One who's ever watchful eye never shuts.

Highest tower to the lowest dungeons,

Our highest moments and our deepest ruts.

They see the nightmares, they know each daydream.

Every distant wish, every life-long goal.

Each thing we love and that which makes us scream.

Secrets imprinted on each person's soul.

They could withhold these dreams or deliver,

Blessings and curses by hundred thousands.

They see it all for they are the Giver,

Whether the gift be ashes or diamonds.

Watching all, lying beneath the aspens,

One privy to dreams of billions.


	45. The Thorn In Your Eye

I watch, helpless, as the blood runs down your face,

And cry because I can no longer help you.

You have chosen your poison, chosen your place,

But what pain is your master putting you through?

I wish we could disappear without a trace,

But you sold your soul to the dark and untrue.

It is your own fault that you're destined to die,

 _You're_ responsible for the thorn in your eye.


	46. Tripping Over Broken Earth

Lone survivor struggles on,

Tripping over broken earth.

Drenched in blood both old and fresh,

Lone survivor struggles on.

Stumbling blindly in the dark,

Drenched in blood both old and fresh.

Dehydrated, hungry, weak,

Stumbling blindly in the dark.

Searching for help all the while

Dehydrated, hungry, weak.

Slowly dying, bleeding out,

Searching for help all the while.

Struggling forward in vain,

Slowly dying, bleeding out.

Tripping over broken earth.

Struggling forward in vain.


	47. The Meaning Of Tragedy

A sudden darkness coats the world in thick black

As people cry out and children scream.

The outcry of suffering is a harsh song;

The cries of distress reach to the stars.

Oh unforgiving sun; oh cold, heartless moon,

Unfeeling they watch the reaper work.

Death sweeps the globe as it never had before.

Catastrophe bathes the world in red.

Single desolate souls are scattered about,

Lone survivors of unforeseen end.

Devastation strikes an eerie harmony.

This is the meaning of tragedy.


	48. Burning

Fear is withering the soul.

The world goes up in flames.

Bodies burn like charcoal,

Fear is withering the soul.

It's the cost of lost control.

Lives are little more than names.

Fear is withering the soul.

The world goes up in flames.


	49. Illusions

I open my eyes;

You aren't really there.

Severing all ties,

I open my eyes,

Thinking through the lies

That have been laid bare.

I open my eyes;

You aren't really there.


	50. Deviate From The Perfect Script

Some people say fate is written in the stars.

All their problems they chalk up to destiny.

They sit back and take it, acquiring scars,

Never moving forward, just letting it be.

Searching for meaning in Jupiter and Mars,

Going through the motions, they'll never be free.

We need to avoid falling into their crypt,

So let us deviate from the perfect script.


	51. All Is Vanity

An ill fitting cluster of lies

Is all that's hidden in your eyes.

You give in to insanity.

All that you dream is vanity.

 **.**

You're a narcissistic princess

Who steps on those considered less.

Blind the rest, you can't fool me.

All that you dream is vanity.

 **.**

You do your best to keep me bound,

Small, weak, and shy, without a sound.

Told me I don't want to be free.

All that you dream is vanity.

 **.**

Everything has changed since then.

I realize I need to run in

A brief moment of clarity.

All that you dream is vanity.


	52. Shells And Ghosts

**This marks my fiftieth poem, given that two of them are my sister's. It amazes me to have come so far from the simple poems I wrote during seventh grade (which I shall post soon), and to be so well received. I'd also like to give a shout out to** **you-could-in-new-hampshire, my most dedicated reader. Your reviews never fail to bring a smile to my face. Now enough celebrating, and go ahead and read poem number 50!**

I am haunted by shells and ghosts.

The shells of what I once knew well,

The ghosts of what I wanted most.

No matter what they never leave,

Forever shut inside my heart.

I shut them from my memory,

I replace them with distractions.

It is a vain and worthless start.

.

I am surrounded by the shells.

Empty husks of things I once loved.

Remnants of the discarded past.

Once living things full of meaning,

Now memories pale and dead.

There was a time when they flourished,

Now, naught more than hollow vessels

For me to keep or leave behind.

.

I can't discard so many ghosts.

They follow me; they haunt my dreams.

I know I should try to fix it,

But I am too tired just now.

The shades of my past will not leave,

And I am helpless against them.

They embody all my regrets,

Reminding me of past misdeeds.

.

I can't escape my shells and ghosts.

Everyone has at least a few,

Some have found a way to survive;

Some, like me, are crushed by the weight.

If someone knows, please tell me how

To rid myself of this burden.

If you know, please share it with me.

I can't handle my shells and ghosts.


	53. Entreaty From The Dying

The die's been cast;

I can sleep at last.

It's time to say goodbye.

Others watch aghast.

The die's been cast.

The end comes fast,

And I wait to die.

The die's been cast,

I can sleep at last.

It's time to say goodbye.

.

Courage Dear Heart,

I must soon depart.

It's time to say goodbye.

Though we must be apart,

Courage Dear Heart.

Find a new start

And let your soul fly.

Courage Dear Heart,

I must soon depart.

It's time to say goodbye.

.

Please do your best,

As I go to rest.

It's time to say goodbye.

Do not protest,

Please do your best.

Finish your quest,

And we'll meet in the sky.

Please do your best,

As I go to rest.

It's time to say goodbye.

.

The die's been cast;

I can sleep at last.

This is my last goodbye.


	54. The Color Of Me

**The following poem (or rather the next three) is one I wrote in my English class in seventh grade. I hope you enjoy.**

I am the color of bright spring leaves,

Bursting to life in an aspen tree.

I am the color of a tart sweet lime,

falling swiftly from the tree.

I am the color of a vast, sunny meadow,

Waving gracefully in the wind.

I am the color of a deep lush jungle,

The thrilling eye of the wild.

I am the color of a shining cat's eye,

Glowing the flicker of a candle.

I am the color of sweet green grapes,

Squishing and squashing in my mouth.

I am the color of a glowing emerald,

Glimmering in the evening light.

I am the color of a vibrant green crayon,

Creeping slowly across the paper.

I am the color of of a fresh drop of dew,

Shimmering in the morning sun.

I am the color of of a bright, lush cactus;

A bursting oasis in a dead and dying desert.

The color of me is a bright spring green,

Bringing life to the world.

 **I think my color has changed since then. Now I think I'm more of a lavender. Be sure to review with what color you think you are. I love to hear from all of you.**


	55. Life Is A River

Life is a river.

It could be clear or murky;

It could be calm or you could face waterfalls.

But you can't leave that river.

Even if you get tossed around,

Even if you capsize,

You can't give up.

You've got to right your boat,

You can't turn around or you'll get washed ashore.

You must go forward,

Paddling in earnest,

Because life is a river and you can't turn back.


	56. The Period Before Lunch

Slowly my sleepiness beckons me,

Whispering in my ear, tightening it's grip on my brain.

I am faintly aware of Hunger standing at the door.

Everything is fuzzy, Sleep has done her job.

Hunger slips in; he sneaks up behind me,

Puts me in a choke hold.

I fight back weakly, too tired to struggle much.

The bell watches and mocks me.

"Ten minutes till lunchtime!" she sings out,

Over and over.

Her voice, and her voice alone are all I can hear,

As she stands in the gate,

Keeping me in this prison I'm held in.

My head fills with confused dreams

Of monkeys, and puppies and whales:

Mountains and oceans and cities.

Finally in the door the Bell shouts,

"It's time! Let her out! We've won!"

I step outside, suddenly awake;

Sleep has relinquished her hold.

Finally free I rush away, Hunger tagging along.

He won't let go until I force him off.

He's stubborn that way, for sure.

But I'm in control now, I know what I'm doing,

As I rush away from the bane of my life.


	57. The Treasure In The Field

**This is dedicated to my little sister and anyone else who has been told they are worthless, or feels like they aren't good enough. You are special and unique and above all else, treasured.**

There once was a treasure, buried in a field,

That was considered sacred and beautiful.

Only one ever knew what the earth concealed.

For it, he sold all that made his life fruitful.

Lost everything for what the meadow would yield.

With nothing but the treasure, he now felt full.

And there is something else I know to be true.

The treasure that's buried in that field is you.

 **Remember that no matter what, there is someone who loves you, who would give up everything to be with you, even if it doesn't feel like it. And if you ever want someone to reassure you how special you are, or just need someone to listen, feel free to PM me. I'm always willing to be a shoulder to cry on and will always tell you what I know is true. That you are special, beautiful and treasured. Keep living, and one day you will change the world.**


	58. King Of Thorns

Only one has worn the crown of thorns.

Only one has born the full weight of the curse.

He is Lord of the Fallen,

The King of Tears.

The one who was crowned by the wreath of thorns,

The one whose blood dripped into his eyes.

He is a conquerer.

The King of the Curse.

All because he took the weight,

When he was crowned the King of Thorns.


	59. A Boy Who's Confused

**This was based on the story Friend or Foe by** **PseudonymousEntity.** **If you are in the Harry Potter fandom, I recommend it.**

There was a boy, who was very confused.

Fathers should care, his left him bruised.

His rival became his friend

And resolved to see it end.

And now the boy is no longer abused.


	60. You Crack, I Shatter

You crack, I shatter.

We're lost here in our grief.

Our sorrow, like raindrops, splatter,

You crack, I shatter.

They ask what is the matter,

Suggest the pain is brief.

You crack, I shatter.

We're lost here in our grief.


	61. Living In Hell

**This is another poem by my beautiful, wonderful, fantastic little sister, written while she was in her lack-of-contact-with-horses induced depression a few months ago. She just recently showed it to me and again I begged her to let me post it. Being the wonderful child she is, she agreed. I hope you enjo- well I hope you like it.**

Standing shattered in broken glass,

As all hopes fall to pieces at your feet.

The mocking world pushes it's laughter in,

Pouring acid into already burning wounds.

There seems to be no one worthy of trust,

Knife after knife is shoved in from behind.

Resentment bubbles just beneath the skin,

You can only take so much before you snap back.

Desperate to be strong you tell no one your pain,

Yet wish someone would listen and wipe tears away.

Praying that for once you didn't have to fight,

Still wishing you did to prove you're stronger than the war inside.

Always knowing it will never be enough;

Only the weak hurt the wrong person back.

It takes all that is left to just breathe,

Pound after pound added to the burden you feel.

So no one sees as you finally fall apart,

Believing the lie constructed for their sake.

With finality the end draws near,

Nothing is worth what you've been forced to bear.

Terror is gripping as cares start to fade,

Even things once loved become distant dreams.

Calm comes with the last despondent choice,

No regard for if it brings peace or another hell.


	62. Lion

A lion is still a lion,

If it's in a cage.

Whether alive or dyin',

A lion is still a lion.

Though born trapped and cowerin',

It can still unlock its rage.

A lion is still a lion,

If it's in a cage.

...

 **Even if you feel weak and defeated, remember, you were born a lion, and a lion is still a lion, even if it is in a cage. All you need to do is break out.**


	63. Cry Of The Prodigal

I'm sorry Daddy.

I couldn't tell you why,

But I ran away.

I'm not an easy child, but

Somehow you've loved me anyway.

.

You took me in when I was small,

Gave all your care,

Gave all your love.

We were the closest friends, Daddy,

On earth or in the sky above.

.

But I started growing older.

Started sneaking off,

Started to rebel.

Used any excuse to stay away.

I know that you could tell.

.

I'm coming home Daddy,

And I need you close

To help me stay.

I really am sorry Daddy.

Please forgive me for running away.


	64. Crazy And Special

**This was written by my lovely cousin some time ago. I only just acquired her permission to post it. All credit to her.**

I used to think I was crazy and special

clothed in halfness like a goddess.

my mind, an earthspine

of crooked mountain vertebrae

closer to the stars, closer to the core

always both, sometimes more

.

then came The Naming,

condition labeling

I'm not special, just sick

not special, just crazy

(madness)

not a goddess, a gene pool mistake

a fluke

the name stripped me of demigod cloak

mortal now, mortal forever now

.

and those pills

they have these pills

and light boxes

and herbs

medicines to cure

(sadness)

what I hate most is that it would probably work

they don't need to know me, just my sickness

cures to bulldozer my mountainside

.

I'm not special,

just crazy.

.

I am all empathy

all selfishness

all compassion

all anger

I am always all

no. pills through my pelican throat

I am all nothing

all nothing

all nothing

all nothing

I am the biggest nothing I have ever seen

.

I used to think I was crazy and special

catching children in the barley field

I am just a statue torn naked by wind

watching them fall

.

I used to think

now I do

I do swallow them

now I am not crazy or special

now I am not crazy.


	65. Under Attack

Be still my heart so I may hear

The threat that's hidden in the night.

Imagined sounds have me shaking with fear.

Be still my heart so I may hear.

Some dark terror lingers near

And desperately I search for light.

Be still my heart so I may hear

The threat that's hidden in the night.


	66. Ashes, Ashes, The End Of The World

The color of destruction is a hot, dull red.

The color of dreams slipping downward to Hell.

We waste or tears and sacrifice wisdom.

Anything to kill the pain.

But time goes on and we fade away.

Only memories left.

A charred hat, a melted toy,

And ashes, ashes, ashes.


	67. One For All, None For ONe

**I'm going to admit that this is really just me complaining, but if you must complain, then what better way to do so than with Slam Poetry. Besides, it was an assignment for my creative writing class. Anyway, thanks for humoring me.**

For as long as I can remember, I've been the sensitive one.

The sympathetic one. The empathetic one.

The one who understands.

A pillow to take your anger. A pillow to cry into. A pillow to hold until you feel better. A pillow that's always there until it's worn down.

I've always known what to do or say,

Or at least had a pretty good idea.

I've always known what others need and how to help them.

But there's never anyone there for me.

Have you ever needed something?

Something that, if it were literally anyone else you could supply?

Something you have in spades?

Something you would freely give if it were anyone else?

If only it were anyone else?

But see, the thing is, it's not anyone else.

It's you.

And you're the one person you can't help. The one person you can't take care of.

And you try. You give it.

But it's yours to give and in reality, you give nothing.

You want to scream but you choke on your breath and don't make a sound.

Tears fall from your eyes like clouds,

Because… you're not actually crying.

Oh you want to. You want to so bad it hurts. You want the small modicum of comfort tears would bring. You want to, but you can't.

You're just sitting there, waiting.

Waiting for someone to find you.

Waiting for someone to notice.

Waiting for someone to reach out to you like you know you would reach out to them, if only your situations were reversed.

If only. If only. If only.

But, of course, no one comes.

Why are you surprised?

The only one close to capable of the comfort you need most is Mom, and even she is too busy to be there for you.

And you know it's not her fault.

She has little boys to wrangle and toddlers to watch. You're the oldest. She needs you to be self-reliant.

And so you bite your lip and try to cope.

Wishing. Wishing. Wishing.

If only. If only. If only.

This has been me for years.

And sometimes I wonder.

Maybe that's why I feel as if intangible weapons are constantly mutilating me.

Maybe the hammer in my gut, the emotions I can't share.

The bullets, a constant mantra crying 'less, less, less'.

The knife, that painful whisper in my ear.

"Are you anything more than an illusion?"

I know it's a lie but it's easier to believe when you don't feel loved.

Because so often, the love I need is the love only I can give.

My own brand, the love available to all but me.

And yes it hurts. Oh does it ever hurt.

Because I can't pour into everyone else without someone else pouring back into me.

I can try my hardest, but with enough pressure and tension, even the most flexible of materials can snap.

Then all bets are off.

A fire cannot give warmth unless someone first fuels the flame.

A lake cannot provide endless water in a drought.

But I suppose you're tired of hearing me complain.

I suppose you can't just take it like I do, but I thank you for indulging me.

And who knows.

Maybe there's someone, somewhere who's actually listening,

Rather than just hearing.


	68. Opposites, Maybe

Black and White.

Dark and Light.

Wrong and Right -or is it?

Black like soil, like fertility.

White like snow, like cold.

Fertility grows, cold kills.

Which is wrong? Which is right?

Or are they all that different?

Black is charcoal, White is ash.

Both results of a fire.

White is cold, and cold is dark,

And dark, my dear, is Black.

White is death. Black is death.

They're really not that different.


	69. My First Memory Of You

My first memory of you saw you looming over me,

Locking me in your sorrowed gaze.

I know you must have known me.

How could you not?

My very soul summoned your presence.

I knew you too.

 **.**

But I never saw you.

Never saw the smoky wings.

Never saw the cloak of shadows.

Never saw the black angel.

Never saw the hood drawn low,

Masking your eyes.

 **.**

Even after all this time,

I've never seen your eyes.

 **.**

You fiddled with your scythe,

Discomforted.

I wondered how I could read you so well.

We weren't nearly as close then.

Not like we are now.

 **.**

Until that moment, death was warm.

The warmth of the gun in my hand.

The warmth of blood running over my skin.

I was always gone before the death became cold.

 **.**

But you were cold.

Like a statue in the dead of winter.

Like a glacier.

Were we not intangible, metaphysical,

Their would be frost in the air.

Were we anything more than

Ghosts.

 **.**

Were I alive, then June would be winter.

Were I alive, death would still be warm.

But I'm not alive. And I'm not warm.

I'm cold,

And you burn with it.

 **.**

We looked down at my body,

Broken and bloody on the street.

I seem small.

A broken doll discarded on the street.

A drop of blood in a rainstorm.

I seem small.

Inconsequential.

 **.**

But we both know that's a lie.

I was born and eighty-seven people died for it.

A three year old butterfly flapped her wings.

A three year old butterfly disappeared.

The hurricane killed eighty-seven.

 **.**

You said that as a child I shouldn't be at fault,

That I should go to Heaven.

But I'm not most children.

Most children don't kill,

And killers go to Hell.

 **.**

Your heavy gaze weighed me down.

I wanted to sink through the earth.

I'd felt shame before.

Shame of failure was engraved on my bones.

I think I failed again, but I don't know how.

 **.**

You instructed me to seek atonement.

A life for a life.

Live a life, die a death for each life I ended.

A life for a life.

Mine for eighty-seven.

 **.**

You told me to learn.

Yes I failed, now I needed to learn why.

Because you wouldn't tell me.

 **.**

You promised I'd be raised right.

And then we both vanished,

And I found myself blinking in the light.

* * *

 **This is based on a pivotal moment for a character in a story I'm creating. It was an assignment for one of my classes that I took in an interesting direction. Any guesses who the poem might be referring to? It's not an original entity. Any ideas?**


	70. Dreams

Dreams rush through my head,

Tossing thoughts about like ships on stormy seas.

The endless depths hide secrets.

Beautiful, alien, dangerous secrets

Pretty and colorful near the surface

But the deeper you go, the darker it gets.

Until you can see nothing, do nothing.

Just wait in the black,

For something to swallow you whole.


	71. Vengeance

You rip my life, my soul from me,

Spit on my pain and suffering.

Ruined my life in violent toil.

Rage builds and blood not shed boils.

.

Spit on my pain and suffering.

As you torture me, and make me scream.

Rage builds and blood not shed boils.

So flee, and die, and burn in Hell.

.

As you torture me, and make me scream.

I resolve to make you pay.

So flee, and die, and burn in Hell.

You deserve the pain you caused me.

.

I resolve to make you pay.

Ruined my life in violent toil.

You deserve the pain you caused me.

You rip my life, my soul from me.


	72. Apocalypse

The sun burns out, the moon falls,

I think the world is ending.

From the shadows, I hear Death call.

 **.**

Whole world's locked in the selfsame brawl,

Fighting. Running. And killing.

The sun burns out, the moon falls.

 **.**

Burning houses, broken dolls.

Scorched memories slowly fading.

From the shadows, I hear Death call.

 **.**

Fate writes the End in bloody scrawl

And I see mountains sinking.

The sun burns out, the moon falls.

 **.**

There's a new meaning to landfall

And all living are drowning.

From the shadows, I hear Death call.

 **.**

"Save us! Help us!" They scream and bawl.

Everything is dying.

The sun burns out, the moon falls.

From the shadows, I hear Death call.


	73. Girl In The Graveyard

**Think of this as an extended writing prompt. You could just read it, or you could come up with context. If you do the second option, please send me the link or something. I have my context I'd love to know yours.**

She knelt before the graves.

None of them were here

and she didn't expect them to be.

They were all over the place,

nothing but bones now

while she has to keep living.

.

'I'm done with living.'

She thinks, looking at the graves.

'But I can't end it now.

I have to stay here.

Maybe not this place

specifically, but I have to be

.

alive. Have to be

breathing, but not strictly living.

I could stay in this place,

like a ghost among the graves.'

She frowned. Death was not here.

He was near, but not present. Not now.

.

Of course he was always close now.

Always had been, always would be.

Without him, she wouldn't be here,

wouldn't be living.

Just another corpse among the graves.

A single corpse in a single place,

.

not fifty, each in a different place.

She couldn't dwell on that now.

Not among the graves

while she was still alive. While she had to be.

She'd tried before, not living.

It hadn't worked. She was still here.

.

Of course she was still here,

still out of place.

Because breathing isn't isn't living

and then has mixed with now.

But how can it be

that one person has so many graves?

.

She's still living, but not here.

You could find her with the graves or some other place,

where she wouldn't be, but is now.


	74. I've Seen

I've seen the joys of life.

I've seen the sun descend in the sky.

I've seen the colors as it rises.

I've seen waterfalls, hundreds of feet tall.

I've seen the prettiest of views.

I've seen children playing.

I've seen family.

I've seen intense heat in fire.

I've seen the absence of it in snow.

I've seen the trials of life.

I've seen pain in other's eyes.

I've seen pain in the mirror.

I've seen sacrifice for my sake.

I've seen pain and death on my account.

I've seen pain caused by love; for me.

I've seen stress.

I've seen anxiety.

I've seen insomnia and the ends it meets.

I've seen people break.

I've seen people fixed -though not as often.

I've seen the effect a smile can have.

I've seen the effect of tears.

I've seen the cause of them all.

I've seen things most people dismiss as fiction.

I've seen words on a page.

I've seen words write lives.

I've seen those lives hurt.

I've seen those lives end.

I've seen violence drawn in black and white.

I've seen people torn apart.

I've seen my written word create people.

I've seen those people live.

I've seen those people die, sometimes more than once.

I've seen blood.

I've seen gore.

I've seen battles.

I've seen graves.

I've seen angels.

I've seen Death.

I've seen dark so black I can't see at all.

I've seen more than anyone realizes.

I've seen everything.

I've seen nothing at all.


	75. Life Of A Fangirl

**Merry Christmas All! I hope you have a wonderful holiday season and God bless you.**

Finding balance on solid ground

Has never been harder to do.

You've left me staggering around,

Trying my hardest to find you.

 **.**

My world feels like it's shifting,

Trying to throw me from my feet.

The earth feels like it's listing.

I am dissolving in the heat.

 **.**

My heart tears itself from my chest

If I imagine you are near.

The thought of you has me obsessed

I think I'd die if you were here.

 **.**

Finding balance on solid ground

Is suddenly impossible.

I'm weeping as my soul is bound

Forever inconsolable.


	76. Oh My Child

**Merry Christmas! As a present, two updates in one day! Also as an apology for neglecting to update.**

Oh my child,

How I wish I could be there for you.

How I wish I could wipe the tears from your eyes.

How I wish I could be a shoulder for you to cry on.

How I wish I could lead you by hand when your vision is blurred and your steps, uncertain.

How I wish I could pick you up when you fall.

How I wish I could keep you from ever falling.

How I wish I could spare you the pain that comes with living.

How I wish I could spare you the guilt of failing.

How I wish I could hold you when you do fail, as you inevitably will.

How I wish I could celebrate with you.

How I wish I could see you one last time.

Oh my child,

I can't be there for you.

I can't wipe your tears.

I can't be the shoulder you cry on.

I can't guide you when you stumble.

I can't pick you up when you fall.

I can't keep you from falling.

I can't protect you from life's pain.

I can't keep you from failing.

I can't console you when you do fail.

I can't celebrate with you.

I can't even see you, just one more time.

Oh my child.

Please remember to look out for yourself.

Please remember to look out for others.

Please remember that failing doesn't change your worth.

Please remember that it's okay to make mistakes.

Please remember to breathe.

Please remember that no matter what, I'm proud of you.

Oh my child,

If you don't remember anything else, remember this.

You are my most precious treasure,

I love you, and nothing will ever change that.

I will never stop loving you.

Oh my child,

Keep your head up.

Keep fighting.

Keep you wits around you and

Never Give Up.


	77. Shaken

It happened yesterday.

It happened centuries ago.

The pain sears our soul

So much that we freeze.

We numb the pain,

Heal the burn by burning again.

It's probably wrong.

Unhealthy.

But what can we do?

We came so close to losing our lives.

We came so close to dying.

We don't want to die,

So we're healing.

Or at least we're trying to.

Because our close encounter scared us good,

And our lives mean more to us now.


	78. Hark! The Clockwork's Tale

Steady, steady. It's seen it all.

Hark! The Clockwork's Tale.

.

It ticks off the seconds,

It's pulse measures the universe.

What stories it could tell,

If only you would listen.

.

Steady, steady. It's seen it all.

Hark! The Clockwork's Tale.

.

A tale of joy and laughter.

A tale of sorrow and grief.

A tale of triumph and desolation.

A tale of solitude and loneliness.

.

Steady, steady. It's seen it all.

Hark! The Clockwork's Tale.

.

The tower's stood for oh so long.

Ticking off the seconds,

Ringing on the hour.

Slowly losing to the time it measures.

.

Steady, steady. It's seen it all.

Hark! The Clockwork's Tale.


	79. Baby, It Isn't Healthy

**So Happy New Year! Sorry for inconsistent posting. I meant to post this on New Year's but things kept happening. Enjoy.**

* * *

Baby, it isn't healthy,

To be without a soul.

I don't care what you see,

Baby, it isn't healthy.

However it seems, you are not free;

Thoughts and feelings make you whole.

Baby it isn't healthy

To be without a soul.

.

Baby, it isn't healthy,

To lie yourself to sleep.

To stumble around blindly,

Baby, it isn't healthy.

If you don't feel trustworthy

Then child, you're in too deep.

Baby, it isn't healthy

To lie yourself to sleep.

.

Baby, it isn't healthy,

To be as cold as ice.

Please just listen to me!

Baby, it isn't healthy!

It's a weight you shouldn't carry.

It bares to steep a price.

Baby, it isn't healthy

To be as cold as ice.

.

I do not know what's healthy.

I only know what's not.

Far too many things are deadly.

I do not know what's healthy.

But the consequence is ghastly

Should you let yourself get caught.

I do not know what's healthy.

I only know what's not.


	80. Heart Hurt By The Light

Try to find it but it's disappeared.

It was burnt so it fled.

It was wounded, injured, broken,

Torn apart and left for dead.

It's locked itself behind stone walls,

Been robbed of all it's fight.

Try your best to save it,

The heart hurt by the light.

.

Light is supposed to be lively, good.

It's not supposed to hurt.

It's not supposed to burn or kill.

It's supposed to help; comfort.

But nothing burns as light does.

No fire has half it's might.

That's why naught but darkness can help

The heart hurt by the light.

.

Darkness surrounds the wounded soul

In its soothing embrace.

The cold it brings cools the burning.

Eradicates the scorching trace.

It's the darkness that mends the soul,

The darkness that sets things aright.

It's the darkness that can heal

The heart hurt by the light.

.

So find a cloak of darkness.

Wrap it round you tight.

And you might be able to find

The heart hurt by the light.


	81. Dream Child

Do not be afraid to dream,

Little One.

You were born for exploits,

For greatness.

Dreams unlock the the potential you've hidden,

All you must do is fight through the bleakness.

You can't let all the garbage bag you down,

Shake it off,

Trample it beneath your feet.

You can't let it bury you,

Else you'll drown.

Build yourself a mountain,

Don't the defeat.

You have so much potential,

Precious Child,

So open your heart,

Let your dreams run wild.


	82. He Observes Us Through The Glass

**In a shocking turn of events to me, it appears the women in my family are not the only ones with a talent for poetry. This was written by my little brother for school. The results surprised me. Enjoy.**

He observes us through the glass,

Yet always stays indoors.

He watches us with longing eyes;

His gaze hard to ignore.

Often he just sits there,

Mesmerized by things.

What most consider normal,

To him, Astonishing.

I've never seen him elsewhere,

Just sitting by the pane,

Watching birds and insects,

Like he won't see them again.

No one pays much attention,

To the boy behind the glass.

Unable to sneak a peek,

At the person behind the mask.


	83. Rhapsody Of Life

**Dedicated to my sophomore choir teacher, and her new baby.**

Blue eyes open for the first time.

A single violin sings softly.

A small cry rends the air,

and the woodwinds add to the

cheerfully building crescendo.

The first smile, the first laugh,

The orchestra resounds beautifically

in the empty air.

Not so empty anymore.

Tiny fingers find their way

around your much larger one,

refusing to let go,

clinging as if to a lifeline.

The world itself becomes

a thousand voice choir.

It is the symphony of birth.

It is the rhapsody of life.


	84. Selenophilia

I've been captured by the comfort of the beautiful moon.

I'm trapped in its soothing embrace.

Absentmindedly humming a tune,

Trying in vain to match half it's grace.

The world is awash in its peaceful glow;

It's bathing the land in silver.

Shining down from the skies above

On mountains high and valleys low.

Slicing through the darkness, it's a dagger,

My light, the moon, my love.


	85. Birds

They fly through the air,

.

 **B** oisterous

 **I** rritating but

 **R** oyal and elegant. They

 **D** ance through the sky.

.

Chirping, feeding, living.


	86. Lost To THe Light

Everything here is a shade of white,

Playing at being open and airy.

But my dearest one, you are leaving me.

Swiftly, gently, you leave me for the light.

.

The world's becoming unbearably bright,

Like a neutron star I'm forced to carry.

The weight of it is making me dizzy

And you keep slipping, slipping, to the light.

.

I'm watching you fade, and losing my breath.

It's a miracle that I don't join you,

Following you away towards the light.

Sharp ridges go flat; I've lost you to death

And I feel my heart rend itself in two.

Swiftly, gently, you've left me for the light.


	87. Inner Rage And Fake Smiles

She says she's fine.

She even says it with a smile.

But her voice is cold

and inside she's seething.

No one could know

that she's the villain in her head.

 **.**

The voice in her head

argues "Nothing is fine

and no one will know.

They don't see past the smile,

don't see your monster seething.

You'll be left in the cold

 **.**

with your bitterness and cold

pragmatism." The voice in her head

is seething.

But everything is fine.

She forces the smile

so no will know.

 **.**

No one will know

how cold

her bright smile

truly is. How in her head

she's snarling. How she's not fine

she's seething.

 **.**

She's seething

in her rage but no one can know.

She's plotting their fall. No, it's all fine.

They'll never feel her cold.

No one cares that she's at war in her head.

No one notices that the smile

 **.**

is fake. She lets smile

fall. She calms the seething

mess in her head,

leaving a blank face and cold

emptiness. Who cares if they know

It's not really fine.

 **.**

Her head has stilled, but her smile

is gone. Still not fine, but no longer seething.

She is calculating and cold, but they'll never know.


	88. Reality In The Romance

Shepherds in green with curved staffs and sheep.

Three kings, a baby lying in hay.

God so loved the world.

The romance is there but reality less so.

.

The first Noel to vagabonds and drunkards.

The lowest of low,

Scum of society.

First Noel to the shepherds who raise the sacrificial lamb.

.

Wisest of all, heeding the words of the prophets

Expecting a king, they went to the palace.

Immanuel came but they mistook the wrapping paper

And clued in the murderous king.

.

A sign in the sky, a woman in labor.

Sign in the sky, seven headed dragon

Waiting, drooling to devour the newborn.

The child is God's.

Woman, flee to the wilderness.

.

Come into a world waiting to kill.

Come into the world with a price on your head.

Cause the drooling dragons are still drooling.

The murderous kings are still murderous.

Come to die, but not yet.

.

God so loved the world, He sent His son to die.

The reality in the romance shouldn't be ignored.

.

 **Merry Christmas everyone!**


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